


A Wrench of a Different Color

by SonjaJade



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Dry Humping, F/M, First Time, Hair Brushing, Hair-pulling, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Penetrative Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 11:49:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10464231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonjaJade/pseuds/SonjaJade
Summary: When Granny’s physical therapy regimen threatens to kill Ed, Winry decides to help him relax afterward.  Little did she know that brushing his hair would lead him to discover so many things about himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Evil_Little_Dog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/gifts).



> (I forget which community this was written for) Prompt: MAY 16 - Hair Fetish; Brushing hair leads to something decidedly kinkier.

Ed flopped down at the kitchen table where Winry was peeling potatoes.  He was exhausted, sweaty, and dying for something, _anything,_ cold to drink (even if he had to choke down _milk_ …).  He crossed his aching arms and laid his head down on them, groaning, “I’ve fought murderers, monsters and evil incarnate, but Granny’s gonna kill me for sure!”

Winry’s giggle filled the air.  “What did she have you doing today?” she asked.

“Everything!” he wailed, sitting up and putting his hands at the small of his back and stretching.  “We started by mending the stone wall, then she had me clean out and reorganize the cellar, and after we had lunch she had me fix the railing on the back porch, then repair that one board on the back step…  I just got done hauling all the junk from the cellar and the storage shed out to the road so the junk man can come get it in the morning.”

Winry smiled sympathetically at him, “Sounds like you’ve been going since breakfast.”

“You’d better believe it.”  He flopped forward onto the table again.  “Makes me wish I still had my automail arm.  At least it wasn’t all weak like this one is,” he gestured with his smaller right limb.  Winry gasped and he saw her staring at him in disbelief, likely angry that he’d thought so little of his brother’s sacrifice for that part of his body.  “No, no!  I wouldn’t trade it really!  I’m just frustrated that it’s not as strong as my old arm yet!”

Winry went back to the potatoes as her look of shock faded.  “All I can say is that the more you work like you did today, the stronger it will get.  Stick with it; Granny knows what she’s doing.”  She rose and tugged a pitcher of iced tea from the fridge and poured two glasses.  Ed thanked her as he took one and gulped about half of it down.  “She’s with Al now.  Got him walking into town with her and make him carry a light bag back.  It won’t be long and he won’t even need that cane.  You both just need time to heal, is all.”

Ed nodded, his eyes heavy and every muscle singing in pain.  He drank more of his tea, then grumbled something about some aspirin.  He was slow to rise from the chair, and once he did he felt dead on his feet.  He turned toward the stairs and began to trudge slowly up when he saw Winry hurrying to catch up to him.  Her hand landed gently on his shoulder, triggering a surge of butterflies in his stomach.

“When I have a long day, there’s nothing like taking my hair down and getting a nice hot bath to make me feel better.  I’ll even brush your hair out for you since your arms hurt.”

Edward looked at her and hoped to hell he wasn’t blushing.  “Okay,” he murmured quietly.

He stopped by the medicine cabinet and popped three little white pills into his mouth, slurped them down with water from the basin, and then went into Winry’s room.  She pulled the small brass stool out and gestured for him to sit, disregarding his grumpy outburst at being treated like an old lady at the beauty salon in town.  She picked up the tangled and dirty ponytail and made a disgusted face in the mirror.

“You’re full of split ends!” Winry grumped.

“What the hell does _that_ mean?!”

She shook her head and unwound the elastic from the back of his head.  “It means you don’t take care of it and should probably get it cut short like Al’s.”

Once it was loose, her fingers massaged and rubbed at his scalp, easing the throb of his headache but fueling another throb somewhere further south on his body.  Ed bit the inside of his cheek to make his willful penis behave, but it had plans of its own.  It was pleased by the warmth of her hands in his hair, the smell of her crisp cotton shirt and the soap she’d bathed with earlier.  But more than that, it was pleased to be in her room alone with her, with the girl he’d secretly fallen in love with (or not so secretly as both Lt. Hawkeye and Al had brought to his attention).

“Close your eyes and try to imagine you’re someplace you love,” Winry said in a calm, quiet voice.

A little grin played on his lips as she tried to part his mop into sections.  Winry had no idea that he was already in the place he most wanted to be: in her room.  If only they could do this in the bed…

“Alright, this might hurt,” Winry warned as she grabbed a handful of his hair and readied the brush.

“I’m not tender-headed, don’t worry about it,” Ed replied.

He prepared himself for the pinching stroke to come, but what happened instead surprised him.  When the bristles came down at his crown and got caught up in the snarls, there was no pain.  What Ed’s body should have registered as sheer agony was perceived instead as unbelievable bliss.  An unexpected gasp flew from his lips as his erection throbbed harder in his leather pants.

“Are you okay?” Winry worried, her eyes meeting his in the mirror.

Ed panted, shocked at what had just happened and a little embarrassed to confess that he wanted her to take hold of his strands and pull with all her might, until his head was bloody and his eyes watered from the sting of her yanking.  He’d never felt anything like it before, and all he wanted to do was feel it again.

“Ed?” 

He blinked a few times and then took a deep breath.  “I’m fine.  Sorry, I’m okay.”  A little quieter, he said, “Don’t stop, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?  If it’s going to hurt that badly, maybe I shouldn’t do it.”

“No!” he said a little too quickly.  Then he added, “No, it’s fine. I mean, my arms are so sore and really it’s okay.  It doesn’t hurt.”  Oh, it didn’t hurt; that much was certain.  It was amazing and breathtaking and sinful in how _amazing_ it felt.

Winry gave him an odd look and then shrugged her shoulders.  “Alright, if you insist…”

She began to brush again, and Ed did his best to remain quiet and calm, despite how much he wanted to cry out for more, harder.  His mind’s eye conjured up images of hot summer nights having his hair nearly yanked out by the roots, and his hips and thighs swatted by one of her leather work gloves.  He imagined being bound in leather straps and gagged by her work bandana, still damp and salty with her sweat.  He dreamed up tight leather laces around his dick that bit back into his balls and staved off his climax until she allowed him to have it.  And when he finally _was_ allowed to have it, he pictured her lips wrapped around it and swallowing every drop…

Winry grunted with exertion, struggling to pull the brush through a particularly difficult rat’s nest, griping about how he got his ponytail into such a mess anyways.  She tugged and pulled and jerked and yanked…  Finally Ed exploded into his pants, breathing heavily and squeezing his eyes shut at the sticky warmth pooling in his boxers.  At last, the tangle was free and the brush slipped effortlessly through his golden strands.

“There, that’s better,” she cooed near his ear, sending him into shivers that he didn’t really mind having.

“Yes,” Ed whimpered in return as he closed his eyes in relief.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” she said quietly, meeting his eyes again.  “But now that that’s over, I bet a nice long soak will really make you feel good again.”

In his post-orgasmic state, he’d lost his filter and murmured, “Not as good as you make me feel.”

At the sound of her sharp breath, he cracked his eyes open and saw her blushing face.  It was then he realized he’d said it out loud rather than in his head, and a blush of his own bloomed on his cheeks.  He watched as Winry sat the brush down on the vanity and came around to face him.  Slowly, she crouched down and her shaking fingers touched his face.

For a moment, they only looked at each other, sparks of chemistry crackling between them and filling the air.  And then Winry attacked Ed’s mouth with the ferocity of a rabid badger.  Instinct alone led them in the kiss and what had begun as hungry and awkward soon became passionate.  Ed’s hands moved all over her at first, then they finally settled on the curve of her ass and tugged her to his lap.  She kissed away from his mouth, down his chin and across his collarbones to the remnants of the automail in his shoulder.  He groaned at the feeling of her licking the partially numb flesh surrounding the metal and begged, “Pull my hair…”  Her body shook with quiet laughter and he could feel her lips curling against his skin.

“I knew _something_ was up,” she answered as she simultaneously ground her body over his and slipped her fingers into his dirty locks, tugging at the strands (but not hard enough for Edward’s liking).  Still, he moaned her name as she kissed her way back to his lips. 

Now she had both hands in it and wasn’t even trying to pull hard like he wanted.  His fingers clamped down on her forearms and he growled, “ _Pull it!_ ”

Winry wound it over her hands and clenched the hunks of hair tightly, then she jammed her tongue in his mouth just before she put all her strength into it.  Ed’s head was jerked away from hers and he cried out.  Her body was squirming over his and briefly read passages about female anatomy popped into his mind.  Words like “clitoral stimulation” and “erogenous zones”  peeked through his lust filled haze and he gently bucked his hips upward.

When she nuzzled her face into his neck, panting, he knew he’d done the right thing.  And if it wasn’t broke, why fix it?  He rewarded each mangling jerk of his hair with a roll of his hips and a whispered plea for more.  She moved more on top of him, and he figured she must be close to coming…  Her breath was too ragged and she couldn’t stop fidgeting and pressing herself into his erection.

Ed watched as suddenly she threw her head back, grinding down hard on his lap.  Her legs squeezed him tightly as she trembled and shook and gasped for air.  Her stranglehold on his head was weakened badly, but it was worth breaking the spell she had over him to watch her face in ecstasy.  He became aware of a musky fragrance and smirked at her. 

“Was it good, Win?” he asked.

She responded with an arching of her eyebrows and a fierce wrench of his hair, leaving him breathless and hoping like hell he could survive a second orgasm in such a short amount of time.  Then they heard Den begin to bark and once again his clouded mind was cleared.

“Shut up, Den, it’s just us!” Granny bellowed from downstairs.  Edward felt as his expression matched Winry’s, and suddenly she had him on his feet and halfway to the bathroom.

“A good soak will help with those pulled muscles,” she said calmly.  “A little lavender oil will help you to relax and it won’t bother the joints in your leg afterward.”  She shut the door on him and he was left to his own devices after that.  No afterglow cuddling, no promises for another time, she’d just shoved him in the bathroom.

For a moment he just stood there, all kinds of emotions flying around in his heart and unsure which one to settle on.  He’d basically dry humped the girl of his dreams, right there in her own room… and he’d discovered something about his own sexuality, too.  The thought of bondage and pain at Winry’s hands excited him.  Something that should’ve hurt made his nerves sing with desire…  It was almost like he was wired backwards.  After all, he’d hated being tied up at Briggs and that spike that went through his belly had hurt like holy hell, and neither of those gave him a hard on.

He reached forward and began to run water for his bath, pouring a little of the oil into the hot gush from the tub faucet.  “Must’ve been from too many trips through the Gate,” he murmured to himself with a little grin.  He stripped his shirt off and tossed it blindly, then opened his pants and peeked into his messy boxers.  He smiled victoriously at the sight, then carefully pulled all that off as well.  “Totally worth it,” he said as he climbed in and submerged in the hot bath.


End file.
